


Chime

by blackkat



Series: 64 Damn Prompts [62]
Category: Bleach
Genre: (Obviously), AIs, Alternate Universe - Sci Fi, Angst, Computer programs falling in love, Computers, M/M, Not all that crackish, Other, Romance, but still a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 10:16:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to be a computer program in love with your creator, but Shinji has a plan to fix everything. It's equally hard to be an inventor in love with an AI, but Urahara can't help himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chime

The penthouse apartment was still and quiet in the pale light of false dawn. Vast windows, glass from floor to ceiling, stared out over the murky lights of the city as the millions of inhabitants slowly came awake. So high up, a swift breeze hissed around the building, rustling the potted plants on the balcony as it carried a hawk towards the brightening horizon.

Within the apartment, decorated with sleek styles that were more geared for comfort than fashion, all of the lights came on with a soft hum. In the kitchen, the coffeemaker started to burble, and the bathroom began to fill with steam as the shower warmed up. A soft beeping sounded, a gentle alarm, and the bedroom door slid soundlessly open.

"Kisuke, wake up," a voice said softly from the room's speakers, alto male and carefully modulated. The privacy-darkened windows faded to transparent, allowing the first sunlight to filter into the room. "Kisuke, you have a R&D meeting at seven. Urahara."

There was no reaction from the figure sprawled across the bed.

A sigh came over the system, exasperated and quickly heading towards annoyed. "Do we have to do this _every_ morning? Really?"

No answer.

A soft hum. "Fine. All right. I see how it is. But I warned you."

Another moment passed, as though the speaker were waiting for some kind of reaction. None came, and another sigh sounded, half a beat before the harsh bass beat of late Twentieth Century thrash metal came blaring out.

"Gah!" The man in the bed jerked up and attempted to throw himself to his feet, only to find out halfway up that he was still tangled in the bedclothes. He yelped and pinwheeled his arms, attempting to regain his balance, but it was a lost cause. Overcompensating, he toppled backwards off the bed to land in a heap on the floor.

The music shut off, and the voice chimed in cheerily, "Good morning, Kisuke."

The man scowled darkly at the ceiling, letting his head drop to the floor with a thunk. "Shinji. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rewrite your programming to make you into the world's most advanced toaster."

"Because I've started a pot of coffee," the AI answered dryly, "and the shower is running. Just aim yourself in that direction and stagger. Besides, I did warn you, as you requested."

Urahara closed his eyes and resisted the urge to bang his skull against the leg of the nightstand a few times. Somehow, when he'd growled an irritated " _Warn me next time you do that_ ," this hadn't been quite what he meant.

"You suck," he muttered finally.

Shinji sounded far too mischievous for a bunch of computer code when he returned, "I'm sorry, maybe one of you conquests might help you in that department. It's not in my programming."

Reluctantly, Urahara chuckled as he levered himself to his feet and fell into the bathroom. "I'm pretty sure I didn't put anything about you being a sarcastic bastard in your programming, either, but that hasn't stopped you," he pointed out as he stepped under the nearly scalding spray and sighed in relief, the clouds of sleep beginning to dissipate.

"Adaptation." The AI sounded pleased with itself. "You allowed me excessive growth parameters beyond the already extensive personality system. I've been learning." What it didn't say was that it had analyzed all of Urahara's companions and friends, correlating data to come up with a personality that would match Urahara's perfectly.

But computers weren't supposed to do that kind of thing, so he kept his peace.

With a jaw-cracking yawn, Urahara waved the water off and clambered out of the shower to snag a towel. "Anything in the plans for today? Curing cancer, saving the world, rescuing kittens from trees?"

Shinji snorted softly, the doors of the wardrobe sliding back and Urahara's suit sliding forward on its hangar. "If you're referring to the nanotech cell therapy system as treatment, it's still undergoing the final testing stages. As is the distribution of your solar power modules across the world. I believe they've encountered licensing trouble in the European Union. However, that leaves the last option open. Should I call up some files?"

"Bastard," Urahara muttered, but it was fond. He dressed quickly and headed to the kitchen, where the coffee had just finished brewing. "So? Anything?"

"R&D meeting with the mayor," Shinji answered. "I already told you that. Aizen is going to try and shorten your leash if you have something for him, and strangle you with it if you don't."

Urahara rolled his eyes, pouring himself a travel mug of espresso and grabbing his briefcase from where it sat beside the kitchen table. "The old catch-22, hmm? Weather?"

"It's December," the AI returned, as dry as dust. "Wear a coat. Snow tonight. And why am I telling you this? You could call up the weather service just as easily."

"Ah, but you love me." He paused in the doorway to cast a grin towards the monitor in the ceiling. "You live to serve me, Shinji. And besides, if you didn't tell me, I'd stick you in a system with less memory capabilities than a microwave. Later." With a half-wave over one shoulder, the tech vanished out the door.

Behind him, a soft sigh sounded as Shinji turned his systems towards the lab across the city. Urahara's last words seemed to echo through the room.

_Ah, but you love me._

_Oh, Kisuke. If only you knew._

* * *

In a little back room in one of the labs, where only the most industrious janitors went—and even that not very often—the lights flickered on and the computer booted up. Had Urahara entered, he would have recognized the equipment his company used to synthesize and grow new organs. As it was, he never came, and the computer system made sure of it.

Shinji brought up the latest statistics for the body growing in the vat in the center of the room. Everything was according to schedule. Within the next six months, the body would be fully functional and ready for Shinji to start downloading its programming into the otherwise non-functioning brain. Had it been able to feel, the AI would have given a hum of satisfaction as it returned its attention to Urahara's latest demand, leaving the small room's systems running.

 _Soon,_ it thought.

In the growth chamber, long blond hair swayed gently as the body waited to awaken.

* * *

Urahara staggered back into his apartment long after midnight, eyes drooping shut and stubble about to overtake his face, and sighed when he heard the soft sound of jazz. A meal had been delivered and laid out on the coffee table, even though he hadn't ordered anything, and the electric fireplace crackled as it danced in its grate.

"Thanks, Shinji," he said, sinking into the couch cushions with a groan. "You're amazing. Now only if you were real."

"You're welcome, Kisuke," the AI responded, and of course its voice was perfectly even.

Urahara closed his eyes and told himself he was pathetic for wishing that a computer program could be any more than it already was, and turned to his meal with a heavy sigh.

 _Maybe someday,_ he thought.


End file.
